Cassandra: becoming the priestess
by Freelance Muse
Summary: This is part of the novella I want to write about Cassandra of Troy. She's young, having visions, and starting down her path to... renown. Or infamy, depends on who you ask.
1. Chapter 1

I was only thirteen when it began. I woke to a warm night, my body atremble. I knew that I was different. As different as the day I started bleeding. That had been only three months before. The day I became a woman was a feast day of Apollo. It was the first time I chose to fast the night before, only to eat with vigor after the ceremonies. I had my heart so set on those little almond cakes with the cream paste center. On top were thin slices of almond, which with their shape preserved, were just the right size to fit over my eyelids, stand still and pretend to be a statue. I was so sure that the striking beauty of the gods struck in part only because they of their stillness. It was not that I did not believe that our world was theirs, I just did not think that they passed through it, as do we. I digress. Too early in your tale for digressions princess. Its only because I believe that past sweetnesses can be exhumed in memory from the bones of moments long gone. I began bleeding just as the burning of the chine of lamb began. I noticed the dark still pool at my feet. Then I felt the trail it had followed out of my body and down my leg. I did not notice it before, I think, because I was so intent chanting and listening to other voices I could hear in the song.

_Oh bright Apollo, bring us your light. Oh Noble Apollo we give thanks for the shining days. _

I did not panic though I was very embarrassed. I walked to my mother and whispered it to her. The same as I, she did not worry. Hecuba had the slaves take me back in her litter. The day was to become even more auspicious, after her return. I was to return to the temple that evening, just as Apollo was hastening his nighttime leave, clean my blood from the floor, and ask the god's pardon. "There is no coincidence Cassandra, and I think this means that he has chosen you. Remember that all things happen according to divine plan and that among the Olympians, Apollo has always been a friend of truth."

Truth. And always truth. He'd open my mind to truth amid the myriads of idle possibility. I thought on this and found myself incapable of thinking of anything else on the way back. Chosen me? Chosen me to bleed? I feared his designs for me if already they were traced in my own blood. But I told myself not to be afraid, because there was nothing to be done about it. I scrubbed the temple floor, and inquired of the god in a voice which, though small, still filled the temple. I rather liked the sound as it echoed back to my ears: "I will serve you as best I can in whatever way you deem befitting, Always." And then silence. The silence roared until I thought with a sudden shuddering bolt of blasphemy 'Of course there has been silence except for you, Cassandra, the gods do not move.' I crawled back into the litter and berated myself all of the way home for the thought.


	2. A dream a Vision

That was the day that I became a woman in body. My mind would follow in years to come. There was a hopeful apprehension and then, only later did I think that now I could be married and wondered who would appear to fill the role. Though Priam had many young daughters, there were just as many young or widower chieftains with empty beds to fill and kingdoms all their own. Aeneas, it was whispered was a contender. I did envision my wedding, for what young girl can resist the temptation to? I hoped for a spouse of fair mind, near my own age, or not to be wed at all. I coudl gladly offer my eternal maidenhood to the service of a god. I never considered that one would desire me in any carnal regard, for I was not pink of flesh nor golden haired as were some of my more lovely sisters. My looks were something my siblings were certain to make fun of me for. It was part of what made me so strange, and they did not hesitate to tell me so. They said that I looked at everything far too intensely, that my eyes never managed to have the proper focus, I was either staring off into the ether or focusing so sharply that I looked as if I meant to rend the object of my attentions with my eyes. So they said. I remember when my twin brother Helenus said, "She came first, and in her everything is exaggerated, but me, I am just part Priam and part Hecuba a temperate mixture of the two." It was not the first time my parentage was called into question and that harmless joke started to bear quite the sting as time wore on. How they mocked me when I raged at them that it was no longer funny! I wanted them to know that I did belong with them! Oh Polyxena and Deiphobus were the worst, the most ruthless. Again, I digress. When I woke up that night of the first vision, I could feel the keenness of my own gaze, at the edges of every corner of furniture, of the window panes, of the doorway. The vision was of my brother, Alexandros: a prince in shephard's clothes. He was as handsome as a godling, and he lived in the countryside at that time. This was as much as anyone knew about him from common palace gossip. My father had sent him there to avoid a prophecy that would destroy our city. It was a prophecy that could have been averted if the gods did not move.

Though I had never seen him, beautiful Paris had been in my dream. He was being hounded by an immeasurable flock of raptors. The hundreds of them varied, but chiefest among them were the four at the lead. Two eagles flew nearly neck and neck the larger one was golden and just behind him was a smaller black one with shrewder eyes than any eagle I had ever seen. Just behind them were twin hawks with mottled russet plumage smoothed back by the wind they sailed upon. The sky was black with them and they all called, "Stop Thief!" Finally, on the plain that opened before the Skaian gate, right before the towering height of our city's most fortified though least beautiful barriers against marauders, Paris stopped his running. From his eyes poured a silver mist hat quickly formed itself into the shape of the most shining and beautiful woman I had ever seen, or ever could imagine seeing. Her pearl adornments in her hair seemed as natural as the deep pink glisten of her lips. I thought she had to be a nymph at worst and at best a vision of Aphrodite herself. To possess such shining pale golden hair, to encompass so much... grace as she danced on her nimble golden feet. This creature danced with my brother into the gates. His dancing was lovely to look upon, defiant and seductive, but also dreamlike and almost obscenely boastful. She was enchanted, tossing her head this way and that. Their eyes were ever on each other's bodies and it was from seeing them in my own mind that I first understood what lust meant. While they danced the birds of prey had been otherwise occupied, flapping their wings against a strong wind that had blown them off course. But they seemed to pick up his scent again just after he made the gates with her. I could see them in the distance: eagles, hawks, falcons and even a few old owls coming steadily closer. Then I woke.


	3. Upon Waking

I remembered it all in painstaking sharp-edged detail, though I never remembered calling out. I could bring the entire story back to mind clearly. And entirely. I watched it again with my eyes open. Then with each eye opened separately, to assure myself that this had been no ordinary dream. Dreams can be convincing to the waking mind, but the vision had taken root in my very soul. (And later bloomed into a blood black flower). My heart's beat had changed it's rhythm. Thirdly shaken was my mind—and my corporeal self. I quickly found that trying not to think about it was useless. I was trembling so violently that I thought my teeth would crack against each other. But I was not cold. My skin was burning, and inside I felt somehow singed.

My nurse came padding into my rooms seconds later, pulling her shawl up around her head and shoulders. "Princess, what is the matter? Is there another serpent in your room?" I realized momentarily then that I must have wailed before my scattered thoughts flicked elsewhere.

_Why did she never remember that serpents did not frighten me? If only she had seen how Helenus and I would take turns in the garden, picking them up, delighting at the tickle of their tongues in our ears, at our necks. _I clutched my blanket closer. I shook my head at her, knowing my eyes were like glass. I had not looked at her since she crossed my threshold. I had been thinking of my shepherd brother. The handsome one. The one I had only seen in the vision. I broke my silence after what seemed like a long time.

"Paris," I said, "was he sent away because he brought danger to Troy, or because he is so beautiful?"

The silly old woman shook her head and looked at the ground. "Because he was going to destroy it they say, in fire. I wouldn't know, maybe it's both things. The foolish girls who say they have seen him all say he's fair as a god." She turned away from me then altogether, but I stood and went to her. I put a hand on her shoulder because she looked troubled.

"Semrais, I know I am not supposed to speak of him," she looked up at me for a moment and I knew she wanted to admonish me, but was fighting with some other urge, I took my chances, "but I have heard the women talk of him. They say that he lives as a shepherd, that he has married a nymph." It was true, they said things like this when they fancied none of us could hear them, but I did not understand why birds of prey would harrow him for marrying a nymph on the gentle slopes before Mt. Ida. I was certain at the time that his nymphly wife was the woman I had seen in my vision.

"Like Oedipus and Zeus before him, he was supposed to have died out in the wild," she shed a tear then, "but he was spared for some reason, for ill or for good. And I hear he does have a nymph for a wife. Oenone will be with child anytime they say."

For a few brief moments we sat in ponderous silence. Then she seemed to remember herself. She ushered me back to my bed, and laid a smooth hand on my cheek once I had gotten myself underneath my lavender blankets again. "Do not worry about me, nurse," my voice sounded as hollow as the air between her brown eyes and my own, "I had a nightmare, that is all."

"Oh princess," she was relieved, I could tell by her voice, I gave her a problem that she could remedy with ease, "I have a tonic that will help you sleep and sweetly, let me go and get it." She did just that and I drank it in one draught. Essences of chamomile and rose with wine and honey. I did sleep, but when I woke I recalled the vision again and burned to see him. He reminded me of Hector, with a more refined and youthful face, a more carefree face. I wondered if he would be half as goodly. I wondered if his eyes carried the same quieted passion, the same unconditional warm embrace in them that Hector's did, or were they only filled with that unabashed lust? Such questions and other throughts of him plagued me until I contrived a way to see him.


	4. On the road

I told them that I needed to visit the woodland shrine to Phoebus near the roots of Mt. Ida. Hecuba understood my request as a desire to do the will of Apollo, and so made all of the necessary arrangements. I did not disabuse her of this notion, especially since she was so intent on my ingratiating myself to the god that she allowed me the autonomy I requested: I could go without any supervision. Usually one of my elder siblings would accompany me or a courtier not needed in the city. My mother procured for me in one day's time garments and accouterments finer than any I previously owned. The new robes were all in fine silks with gold trim. One saphhire blue, one the color of the sea, one red, and two in fine Tyrian purple. In the dark blue robes, I felt that perhaps I was almost as lovely as Andromache. The veil I wore obscured my face so no one saw my tears, my vain tears that I cried because I was overcome by how suddenly I looked like a lady. I did not care that I should not have loved myself so much then. I threw the veil back when I had a moment alone with a mirror. I never knew my mouth as anything other than too wide for my face. Those lips in the mirror were as inviting as late summer berries warmed by the sun. My eyes were shimmering like the jewels I wore. My thick dark unruly hair was gleaming, and perfumed, and arrayed in a coronet of braids upon my head. _I am lovely enough to meet him. _

Perhaps this was the thought that Apollo half-heard, and it encouraged him to continue the pursuit of me that had only just begun.

My thoughts became filled with the wondering what sort of man my lost brother would be. Would he taunt me the way Helenus did? Would he be as surly as Deiphobus was? Could Alexandros be as valorous and pious and loving as Hector? It was doubtless that Hector was best among Hecuba and Priam's sons. We Trojans believed, despite his protests that his father deserved all praise that he was the greatest man alive: strong, and skilled, generous, passionate, and intelligent. It was obvious that the gods smiled on Hector, blessing his marriage, his shield and sword; it was assumed that they joyously received his offerings. He called me little Cassandra.

It was Hector, just a few months earlier, whom I remembered asking mother and father to bring our brother home. At the time, I did not fully understand all of what was said. It was the first mention I had ever heard of our having a lost brother. Hector was nine years older than me, and one day I saw him passing through the halls on the way to our parent's receiving room. I tiptoed after him, hoping to leap on him as I often did to get caught up in one of his bear-like embraces. He got to them before I had the time, so I hid behind a pillar in wait for him. I watched and listened. His voice was strained and gently pleading, "Father is it not time for us to bring him back?"

My father cut his hand through the air, a gesture in the negative for him. "You know the reason that he was cast out, you forget that he is already blessed by having managed to stay alive." Priam's tone lacked the usual conviction, as if he was not certain of the truth in the words he spoke.

Hector was not satisfied, "Dreams are vain and idle, father, if not accompanied by divine counsel." _Oh how those words would never leave me again Hector, you never knew did you that I lived the horror of that truth for years if you had… _He continued speaking, "You know as I do that you have a fine son, languishing on the mountainside, among sheep and wild things."

The king and queen both answered vaguely, but I thought on this conversation frequently in the days before I left to find Paris myself. I concluded that if Hector wanted to find our brother, he must be a good man.

My appointed entourage and I left on a fall morning. By evening we were halfway there. On the second day of our journey, early in the bright morning I was distracted by a fiercely shining point of light that held my eye for a time and then vanished. I saw it from the chariot at whiles throughout the day. I could not figure out what it was, and I found myself hesitant to speak about it, since no one else remarked on it, and I did not want Semrais to think me ill and begin pestering me to turn around. I would stare at the keen object, only to catch myself doing so, shake my head, and readjust the veil that covered my face, thinking that the golden beads of the hem were playing with Helios to cast such an illusion.

As we reached a vale, where we stopped to water the horses and rest our legs, I saw it again, closer this time, but no larger, somehow. My eyes were dazzled and I do not remember standing or following it. I only knew that when I looked away I heard a fair voice singing among the bleats of sheep. I moved toward it and when I got nearby, I moved a branch aside to see him. Alexandros: the man from my vision. He was lovelier now, than he had been. He sang among his flock, a song about life inside a palace which he could not by any rights remember. He began to dance, moving his feet nimbly and gracefully. Then the light came again, just in front of me. I stepped backward apace, and opened my mouth, but no sound came forth. It flew straight inside of my open mouth, and all I felt then was a torpor—a rigid awareness, and the burning light that came with the sun-god's knowledge. The vision of Paris and the splendiferous woman with him came again.

I passed out of my body's usual confines and felt larger somehow, though less substantial at the same time. I was radiant, and I wandered into a corridor of trees with pale golden boughs. At the end of a row of laurel trees I saw the light. It was in the center of a being no less brilliant. A man, who shone, and smiled, and was beautiful beyond any comprehension. "Cassandra," he spoke, and his words pierced not only my ear, but also my essence, "you are so fair, and answered my call though perhaps you did not know. And I answered yours, even when you thought I would not move." His golden hand touched my face and left a trail of warmth lingering on my flesh.

"My Lord," I bowed, but he reached out after a moment and lifted my chin up to look at him. Or so that he could look at me. He was so open, and luminous, and his eyes seemed to hold no secrets. He simply smiled at me.

"I accept your vow to serve me, and would like to see you become a priestess at my temple. You may speak to me on behalf of your people, and to your people on behalf of me."

I would like to say that I doubted myself at that moment, that I was humble enough to remind Phoebus Apollo of my unworthiness, but I was not. I simply nodded my assent, though perhaps he was not giving me a choice so much as announcing a decision. I was never sure in the years that followed. Apart from accepting my vow, touching my face and piercing my soul with his light and voice, he demanded nothing else.

When I came to, I discovered that I had been missing for some hours, and then near the edge of the forest I'd run off to, on their way back they found me. Apparently the God had taken me bodily to that laurel glade and had not just simply placed the images inside my head. I was weak when I woke, but very alert. I knew that it had been no dream, just as the vision of predator birds had been no mere flight of fancy. I answered no questions, for honestly, I had no complete answers, 'I was with Phoebus Apollo,' seemed like it would open me up to too many more questions, so I remained silent until my nurse told the others to leave me be.


End file.
